


nonexistent

by uraumi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uraumi/pseuds/uraumi
Summary: recorded here because the other site I use is difficult to format // will likely be deleted once I finish





	1. Chapter 1

From the very beginning, the happy family was not entirely happy. Though picturesque, there had always been tension just below the happy exterior, as the family went about their daily business. It was not entirely uncommon for a vivacious woman with a hauntingly beautiful face to drop by, as a matter of fact, the home was positively littered with her glittering red hair. The happy blonde wife often entertained this guest, though the air was often taut between the two, as they waited for her husband to return. Perhaps it was the presence of a dark wizard in Eastern France, that caused this undercurrent of displeasure within the family, the nervous energy somehow flowing through. The young wife was often gone, presumably hiding in her room. It was not that they were too poor to afford a sense of safety, but perhaps it was the husband's constant outings that caused this fear. As a result, the wizarding community of Lyon was very accommodating towards the young Madame Delacroix, despite her British heritage. 

 

The family's young redheaded visitor remained in the Madame's boudoir, fingering the lovely jewelry, including a heavy silver locket. This locket was curiously carved, with the motif of serpents repeating around a distinctly French name - Rosier. However, the style of this locket was clearly British in origin and foreign to the jewelry box. As the young Madame left her manor, she cast a glance back at her boudoir, her gaze lingering on the redheaded beauty. With her shawl around her lovely golden hair, she scurried towards the outskirts of the city, carrying an empty basket. The young Madame's stomach was heavy, she moved surprisingly quickly for a woman with child. A few minutes after the Madame's departure, the redheaded lady left also, not before pocketing the silver locket. A small smile on her delicate lips, she glided out of the manor herself, making her way towards the forest. 

 

As night fell, Monsieur Delacroix made his way towards the forest. His job had kept him rather later and he had let his robes billow into the dust. The Monsieur had left his wife alone for too long in these dangerous times and his concern over his own extended period of absences increased as the body count of La Sorciere de la Nuit increased. Perhaps the witch would have pity on a heavily pregnant young woman, but who knew how the mind of a dark wizard works? The young Reine enjoyed frequenting the groves in the outskirts of town, a practice that could potentially put her in danger. The moon inched up the sky and suddenly, the Monsieur had realized that he could've simply apparated. Nonetheless, he had already walked so far, it would certainly be a waste to apparate back. He could use the exercise and anyhow, he could check for danger in the forest, where it was reputed that the dark witch lurked. Part of him hoped that he could catch this mysterious witch and put an end to her reign of terror. It would certainly serve to consolidate his position within Pureblood Society, his younger brother had fallen into disrepute as of late and the number of half-bloods and muggleborns who claimed their noble heritage increased by the day. With an arrest, he would become one of the most respected wizards in Lyon, and he would regain respect for the Delacroix family name in the whole of France. 

 

Yes, he decided, this would be the proper course of action. If he found the witch before returning to his wife, there was no way that she would be hurt. Thus, this drove him to dawdle in the forest, his path meandering away from the road to Lyon. Rather unexpectedly, he heard the flittering of wings, similar to the sound of a very large moth. He drew his wand closer, murmuring under his breath, "You are Dorien Delacroix, purveyor of potions and paints. You shall not fear the simpering wings of some forest creature." With this, he lit his wand, casting a dull light on his surroundings. Footprints in the soil drew his attention, barely concealed by the unruly grass. Shallow and small, they seemed to belong to a woman, perhaps the victim or the killer herself. Dorien took it upon himself to follow these footsteps, the bravest action he'd taken in the last 13 years, where his last heroic deed was accidentally tripping a serial killer attempting to escape. That had been when he was 10 and he had proceeded to spend the rest of his life cowering in his study, more interested in his silly paintings than honorable combat. He was a man of many talents, though dueling was unfortuneately not one of them. As he followed the footsteps, he became aware of the distant sound of a scream, somewhere in front of him, though far away. He paused, considering that it was not yet too late to turn back. Curiousity and the morbid red string of fate drew him ever closer, he could not stop himself from running towards the sound. 

 

Some instinct told him he had arrived and that if he wished to know the truth, he must remain quiet at all costs. He crouched, not making a sound as he inched forward. Peeking from behind a bush, he beheld a clearing filled with golden light. Somewhere to the left of the bush, a wand lay, the hand that had held it next to the bush he crouched behind. He cringed at this, trembling and quite unsure of what to do. His wand had been extinguished, though he was quite sure that it would make no difference. Steeling himself, he looked above the corpse of the young blonde woman. A woman with glowing red hair hovered - yes, hovered - on the opposite side of the clearing. Her face was beautiful, ethereally so, but seemed quite unnatural. Her expression would have been quite haughty, as it usually was, if she was not locked in a kiss with another woman. Dorien had to stare a little longer, unsure of what he was seeing. His wife, peach basket filled but quite forgotten, had been kissing their family friend. To make matters much stranger, Titania did not have a wand but rather a set of gossamer wings. It would seem as if Reine, his Reine, was responsible for the cruel scene in front of him. Dorien would have fanned himself with his hand, if he was able to move after that shock. He watched in horror as Titania gently caressed his wife's face, smiling the entire time. They murmured words that Dorien could not quite hear, completely uncaring about the life that they had just taken. After a while, the two broke apart. With a wave of her elven hands, leaves scattered themselves over the corpse, concealing it - temporarily. 

 

A cruel voice, familiar and heartbreaking, rang out. "Ahh, that should hide it long enough for it to rot. Now hide your wings, my Queen," Reine purred as she gently stroked Titania's hair,"You know that our darling Dorien will have made it back by now. I'd feel awful if I let him worry about me." Titania chuckled and nodded, her form shifting into that of a human's once more. Ashen faced, Dorien popped up from his hiding spot, unsettled.

 

"You know, your darling Dorien is more concerned that he's married to a murderer." Dorien made no comment on Titania, he had sensed that the relationship between the two women was deeper than it seemed, though he did not wish to interfere. It did not matter if she did not love him, he had decided, as long as the family name is continued. It was true that he had other hopes for Titania when she first arrived, hopes similar to the rumours circulating about the family, though his cowardly self had accepted defeat a long time ago. Reine gasped, horrified at being discovered, her face paling when she saw her husband's grave countenance. 

 

"I-I did not... I am..." She could not finish her sentence, glancing at her lover in horror. 

 

Dorien shook his head, "I saw it. I would arrest you - for the monster that you are - but you are the mother of my future child." Reine heaved a sigh of relief at this, looking from Titania to Dorien. She began to reply but was cut off, "Give me my child and leave. Go back across that bitter channel or I will have to arrest you, for adultery and for murder." 

 

The three faced each other, stony faced, not a single word said.


	2. Chapter 2

Through the last month before delivery, Reine's two lovers had been quite unsure of who was the father. Dorien assuaged himself with the idea that two women could not have a child, though he did sometimes question if a fairy could have a child with a human woman. His affection and trust for his wife had decreased significantly, though he was sure that he had relations with her around the time of her conception. It was still, most likely, his child. The name he had picked out for his child would be something suiting of their family. For a son, he decided it would be Louis or Maximilien. For a daughter, it would be Belle. After all, any child of his would be beautiful beyond words. But Dorien still had his niggling doubts. Titania, though a woman, was significantly more handsome than he. If the child had wings or any of that red hair, it would most decidedly not be his. But would the child be any worse off being the child of a fae? A child of magic itself, a race that remained only within France, kept alive by the magic of old fairy tales. He was quite unsure of himself, pondering these questions over and over again as he paced throughout the manor. He knew he could never compete with Titania for Reine's affection and would be glad to be rid of the couple once his child was born. Another Delacroix, a new hope for the future. Perhaps a girl who would become the headmistress of Beauxbaton in the future - there was always shining possibility. 

 

Despite these uncertainties, he was the happiest to see the little blonde girl borne. The baby had no influence from the blasted fairy and no influence from Dorien. It seemed she was entirely Reine's, a small little doll for her to play with. A compromise between Titania and Dorien was reached, the child would be named Mirabelle. Deep down, Dorien resented the fae's insistence on leaving her mark on the decidedly human looking child. However, there was no real way for them to prove paternity, as Titania was not a father at all. He loved seeing the little babe coo and gurgle, though she refused the touch of all but her mother. Sadly, he realized, he could not keep this little girl in France with him. Wherever her mother went, she would too. After all, she was only a baby. Sadly, he looked at the small Belle - for she would be Belle in his heart - drinking in every bit of her tiny red face. 

 

When it came time for Titania and Dorien to say goodbye to the mother and daughter, Dorien grieved immensely. He cared not for the woman that had betrayed him but for the pure hope and adoration in the eyes of the small baby. With teary eyes, he parted the dock, leaving a heavy crested ring with his daughter. Titania and Reine had a much more tender parting, with kisses and promises to somehow meet again. Titania's own keepsake for the baby was a wand with a lock of her own hair, as well as a shining kiss on the babe's forehead. Around them, the sea breeze picked up, and the ship carrying Mirabelle away from her homeland faded into the distance. Bound by the limitations of her lore, Titania could only watch sadly as her lover disappeared. But before she could make her way back to the forest, the French Aurors were there, wands levied in her direction. 

"That coward!" she cursed, as the Aurors brought their witch of the night back. Titania had fumed at this treatment, furious with Dorien's actions, understanding him all the same. She couldn't just yet escape their grasps, allowing herself to be dragged away so she could continue staring in the direction which her lover had disappeared to. One day, Reine Rosier Delacroix would return to France's shores. One day. 

 

The boat ride often upset the newborn, who had been in particular pain after Titania kissed her. Reine coldly looked at her child, forehead shining from the fairy's mark. A gift was given to the child that Reine could never receive, despite her liasons with the Fairy Queen. The child sobbed pitifully and other passengers looked on in worry as this cruel mother allowed her child to sob. After a while, Mirabelle quieted down, a scrunched nose the only sign of her pain. By the time the boat reached England, the skies were a dreary grey and the seas tempestuous. The child, who had grown accustommed to the sea, protested greatly when her mother stepped foot on dry land. Already waiting at London Harbor was Victoire Rosier, heavy lidded and a stern expression on her face. She eyed her daughter disdainfully, before eagerly scooping up the baby. Reine made no protest, as Mirabelle seemed particularly delighted by her grandmother. Quickly, the trio apparated back to the estate. Her brother glared at her from his seat in the parlour, "If you will commit a crime, try not to get caught." 

 

Reine sniffed with disdain, "Why don't you go back to your wife then? I'm sure you'll want to check up on her now that you know how treacherous a woman can be." Her brother grimaced, dark eyes glittering with malice. "Quite unfortuneately, you and Vinda have taught me quite enough." Reine snickered, smirking at her brother. Her mother looked up from her new pasttime of rocking baby Mirabella.

 

"You were cast off from a respectable pure blooded family. You failed as a wife and you failed as a daughter. See to it that you do not fail as a sister or mother." Victoire closed her eyes, rubbing her head.


End file.
